


Unwelcome

by avulle



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avulle/pseuds/avulle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles on one way Mai and Azula could begin a relationship, after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All relationships in this fic are consensual.

“Please,” Azula says, patting the couch beside her. “Take a seat.”

Mai gives the proffered seat a long glance before pointedly lowering herself into the seat opposite Azula.

Azula snorts. “How petty.”

Mai keeps her expression carefully neutral.

“What are we, five?”

“Apparently.”

Azula snorts again, laying luxuriously across the couch and staring at Mai through half-lidded eyes.

Mai meets her gaze stonily, eyes not wandering as Azula idly runs a hand over her side.

“Well, I suppose you are free to disobey me, now,” Auzla comments idly.

Mai doesn’t respond.

“I’m curious, though,” Azula finally says, leaning her head on her hand. “What exactly was it that you thought I would do if you had disobeyed me _before_?”

Mai remains silent for a long moment before opening her mouth to answer.

“That depends. What exactly would you have done?”

Azula’s smirk becomes brittle for an instant before she licks her lips and smiles.

“Well, you only ever did disobey me once, Mai.”

A muscle in Mai’s temple ticks, and Azula’s smile half-fades.

“So I guess that’s your answer.”

Mai doesn’t speak for a long moment, meeting Azula’s eyes with a stony, flat expression.

Azula’s smile doesn’t waver, her hand still idly curling through the hair lying by her temples.

Finally, Mai says—

“Then it would seem I was correct to obey you.”

Azula hums in response, stretching her legs out over the leg of the couch, and making no particular effort at keeping her robe from riding indecently up her thigh.

“I suppose,” she offers neutrally, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

Mai’s gaze doesn’t waver from Azula’s eyes, and Azula’s eyes do not wander under Mai’s gaze.

A soft smile curls at Azula’s features, and her eyes close in a slow blink.

“I suppose,” she repeats, her gaze dropping from Mai’s and falling to where Mai’s hands are daintily folded together in Mai’s lap. “It’s such a shame you never tried, though,” she says to Mai’s hands. “What fun we could have had.”

Mai’s fingers twitch, and Azula smiles.

Her gaze slowly slide up Mai’s torso, and return to Mai’s face.

“Not even _I_ am the monster you think I am, Mai.”

Her tongue wets her lips once more, and Mai’s eyes dart briefly down to her pale, unpainted lips, before snapping back to Azula’s face.

Azula doesn’t sneer, the corner of her eyes crinkling in a smile.

“Even I had things I wouldn’t do.”

Mai’s lips purse, and her hands twitch again.

“So tell me, Mai,” Azula says, her eyes looking nowhere but at Mai’s, “do you think it’s too late?”

Mai blinks once, and her throat bobs in a silent swallow.

When Azula doesn’t continue, she coughs and asks—

“For what?”

“Well, you seem willing to disobey me now, Mai,” Azula says, smoothing a hand across the red velvet of the couch before her. “And there are so many things we could _do_.”

Mai’s face twitches, and wrinkles appear in her flawless forehead.

“No need to decide now, of course,” Azula continues, short fingernails running up the velvet before her.

Azula’s lips curl into a smile that could almost be soft.

“But if you do, well—”

Azula pats at the empty space before her.

“It wouldn’t be unwelcome.”


	2. Chapter 2

"Mai?"

Mai's hand catches Azula's chest as she tries to sit up, and presses her back against the couch

Azula goes easily, body relaxing back into the cushions.

"Mai?" she asks again, hands lying limply by her sides.

"Azula," Mai finally admits, spreading her fingers across the soft fabric of Azula's robe.

For a long moment, she says nothing, her amber eyes boring down into Azula's.

Azula raises a hand, and places it lightly against Mai's waist.

When Mai doesn't shake her off, but makes no attempt to move, Azula pulls Mai lightly towards her, saying—

"Have a seat, Mai."

She traces the open space on the cushion formed by the curve of her body absently with her free hand.

"Stay a while."

"I don't want to do this, Azula," Mai says, taking a seat and leaning her back against Azula's midsection.

" You don't have to," Azula says, removing her hand from Mai's waist and raising it to where Mai's hand remains rested on her chest.

She curls her fingers around Mai's, and lifts Mai's hand from her chest.

Mai's gaze falls to it as Azula folds her arm out of its twisted, awkward position, and slowly sets both of their hands in Mai's lap.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

Mai stares down at their hands, unblinking.

"Why are you being like this," she finally asks, raising her head and twisting her head to meet Azula's gaze.

Azula meets it unflinchingly.

"Maybe I'm tired of being awful."

"Liar."

Azula blinks.

"Maybe I'm tired of being awful to _you_."

Mai stares at Azula for a long moment before swallowing heavily and returning her gaze to her lap.

"I don't want this," she repeats.

"Okay."

Azula remains motionless behind her, golden eyes focused unblinkingly on Mai's profile.

"What do you want?"

Mai blinks.

"I don't know."

(Mai doesn't release Azula's hand, so Azula doesn't attempt to move it.)


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, that's what they say." Azula looks up. "What do _you_ think?"

"You don't care what I think."

"Tell me anyways."

Mai turns to stare down at Azula.

Azula stares back up at Mai.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know."

Azula continues staring at Mai, and Mai turns away.

She stretches her fingers, and stares at the far wall.

Azula turns her gaze down to the black material of Mai's gloves.

"I don't have to know," Mai finally says.

Azula blinks, and moves her gaze from Mai's gloves to her face.

"You don't have to do anything."

Mai stretches her fingers again.

"I know."

She rolls her wrist, and a fan of blades snap into her hand.

Azula allows her gaze to fall back to Mai's hands, lips pursed.

"Good," she finally says. "That's good."

With a flick of her fingers, Mai flicks the blades in her hand across the room. They bury themselves in the tapestry hanging on the wall before her, sliding deep into the plaster behind it.

Mai leans back, laying her back against Azula middle.

After a moment, she turns to face Azula.

She opens her mouth, and then closes it again.

After a moment, she lifts her right hand, and sets it heavily on Azula's chest.

"No," she finally says. "It's not."

Azula glances down at Mai's hand, before glancing back up at Mai's face.

For a long moment, amber eyes bore into golden ones.

"Then what do you want to have to do?"

Mai meets Azula's eyes for a long moment before dropping her gaze to Azula's hand.

"I don't know." She spreads her fingers, scratching the coarse material of her gloves against the exposed skin of Azula's chest. "I don't _care_."

Azula lifts her hands from her sides, and lays them atop Mai's.

"Anything you want," she says. "It's yours."

"That's the problem," Mai immediately responds, her blunt fingers digging into Azula's chest.

Azula laces her fingers together on top of Mai's, and returns her gaze.

Mai holds it for a moment before dropping her gaze to where Azula's hands lay above her own.

"That's the problem," she repeats.

Azula takes a deep breath, lifting their hands where they lie on her chest.

"I'm not sorry."

Mai raises her gaze Azula's.

Her chest rises and falls, and she drops her gaze back to their not-quite-joined hands.

"I know."

"I'm happy. I like this."

Mai closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.

"I know."

"But I wish you were happy, too."

Muscles stand out against Mai's temple, and her chin falls to her chest.

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing about Mai’s gloves. This is the first fic in which I have really let my weird-ass glove fetish flag fly, but expect to see more of that.


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you know what you want now?”

“No.”

Azula spreads her arms behind her, and slowly allows herself to be pushed back.

“No?”

“No.”

Azula’s back touches the silk sheets, and she allows her arms to fall limp on either side of her.

“I’m hurt.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

Mai’s face twists, and a breath stutters out her lips.

She removes her hand from Azula’s chest, sets it heavily beside her head.

Azula’s fingers itch up from the bed beside her, but stop just short of reaching the loose silk of Mai's robe. 

After a moment, they fall back to the bed. 

"Do you want me?" 

Mai blinks. 

She glances down at Azula's chest, before glancing back up at Azula's face.  

"I don't know." 

"Do you want to find out?" 

Breath catches in Mai's throat, and her fingers curl in the covers beside Azula's head.

She opens her mouth, and--

" _ Yes _ ." 


	5. Chapter 5

"It's okay not to want this." 

Mai's hands freeze against the edges of her robe. 

"I know that." 

Mai's hands continue to tremble against the dark red silk of her robe. 

"Don't tell me what is and isn't okay." 

Azula uncurls her fingers from the waist of Mai's robe, and allows them to fall to her bare stomach. 

Azula looks pointedly at Mai's trembling hands, and, after a moment, Mai's hands unclench from the edges of her robe, and fall to the bed on either side of Azula. 

She takes a deep breath through her nose, and her gaze falls to where Azula has loosely laced her fingers against her stomach. 

She exhales sharply through her nose, and raises her gaze back to Azula. 

Azula blinks once, and continues to meet Mai's gaze. 

"Whatever you want," she says. "It's yours." 

They remain silent for another long moment before Mai raises one hand to Azula's upper shoulder. 

Her glove scratches audibly against Azula's skin, and Azula's nostrils flare. 

Mai shifts herself up, planting a free hand beside Azula's head and lowering her lips to Azula's. 

"Touch me." 

Azula's fingers re-wrap themselves around the fabric around Mai's waist, and pulls their bodies together. 

Her eyes close and against her lips, Mai hisses--

" _ Yes. _ "


	6. Chapter 6

"Mai?" 

"Azula." 

Azula blinks blearily at Mai's back and swipes a hand sleepily across her eyes. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." 

Azula reaches halfway towards Mai's back, stops just shy of it, then presses forward once more. 

Mai shivers under the contact, but remains silent. 

"Are you ever not?" 

Mai blinks, her eyes still trained on the open window before her. 

Her hands fidget in her lap, plucking and pulling at the black fabric of the gloves she has yet to take off. 

Azula's hand whispers across the silk of her back, and Mai finally shakes her head. 

"No." 

There is a moment of silence. 

Mai turns back to Azula, and Azula's hand drops into Mai's lap. 

Mai catches it, spreading it beneath her fingers. 

Azula stares up at her with one eye, the other closed and pressed deeply into the pillow beneath her head. 

"Mai," she finally says. 

"Azula," Mai responds without looking up. 

"Stay with me tonight." 

Mai turns her gaze up. 

"Okay." 


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning is silent.

They open their eyes, they look at one another, and they do not speak.

The room is filled only with the soft sound of silk on silk—

(Skin on skin.)

Mai rises from the bed first (rise from the bed only), emerging elegantly from the sheets to meet the morning sun.

It shines brightly upon her, highlighting the faint scars that only two people have ever bothered to see.

(The days that only two people have ever bothered to notice.)

The sun is low in the sky, and shines upon her in profile, highlighting her figure with long, horizontal shadows.

Azula lies prone on the bed, her head tilted to the side, and she shifts, subtly, beneath the sheets.

Mai remains there, briefly—

(Luxuriating in Azula’s gaze—)

Staring at the sun in a way only firebenders seem to bother.

Her lips open, then, but no words emerge from between them.

Her chest rises and falls in a small sigh, and Azula’s eyes do not follow its motion.

(They are still too focused upon the eyes above it.)

Mai’s eyes finally tear themselves away from the sun, and they fall to Azula.

Her hair is splayed out messily across the pillow beneath her head, her face almost entirely in shadow.

Her lips are pale and unpainted, but turned faintly up at the corners in a way everyone but Mai surely does not know they are capable of.

Her golden eyes are incongruously bright, shining up at Mai from within a shadowed face—

Despite the fact her eyelids remains heavy, her eyes unfocused.

Azula shifts again, this time turning up, to face towards Mai, the sheet sliding down the slow of her body.

Mai blinks once, and then turns away.

Azula stares at the strong lines of her back for a moment before laying her head back onto her pillow.

She makes a vague effort of pushing her hair from her face, but doesn’t succeed.

After a moment, she blows futilely at her hair as it falls into her eyes.

It doesn’t help.

Mai picks her gloves up first, leaning down to pluck them, one by one, from the ground, before sliding them almost-silently back up to her wrists.

It is the loudest sound either of them have made since they have awoken—

The coarse fabric of Mai’s gloves making an audible scratching noise against Mai’s skin.

Mai’s back dances a silent dance as she does this, and a shiver runs through her as the rough fabric of her gloves runs across her skin.

Azula’s eyes grow heavy-lidded once more, and her legs slide not-quite-silently against the sheet and against one another.

Her tongue darts out, and wets her lips.

Her fingers clench around nothing in the empty space beside her.

(Her breath comes a little heavier to her lips.)

Mai stops briefly, but doesn’t turn.

She next turns to where her robe has been haphazardly strewn across the floor, and slides it on in one smooth motion.

It is only then that she turns back to Azula, her robe wrinkled and half-open—her hair a tangled mess.

Azula smiles as Mai dutifully fastens her robe closed, and makes a weak and futile effort of smoothing the wrinkles from the fabric and shaking the tangles from her hair. 

Azula's fingers spread across the vanishing indentation beneath her hand, and Mai's gaze flickers down to it before falling back to Azula. 

She takes a step forward, and lifts one knee into the bed. 

Tension runs through Azula's body, and her fingers press harder into the soft mattress. 

Mai hesitates before leaning down to Azula, and pressing their lips together. 

It is not a particularly short kiss, but neither is it particularly passionate. 

Azula's fingers curl in the loose fabric of Mai's robe that pool around them, and they slide smoothly away as Mai lifts herself back up. 

"I—"

Mai pauses. 

She swallows. 

She looks away. 

"It's morning," she finally says instead, her voice loud against the silence. 

Azula's chest rises and falls in a silent sigh, and she turns her gaze towards the window. 

She stares at the sun as only a firebender can, her eyes focusing and her eyes finally opening. 

"So it is." 


	8. Chapter 8

There is talk of a storm. 

There is a dark cloud on the horizon, and gray clouds carpeting the sky. 

A monsoon is coming, its strong rain already visible on the ocean—

And Azula (princess of the Fire Nation) stands alone on a balcony, starting at the horizon. 

The wind whips around her, strong enough to toss her wet hair to and fro. 

The rain pounds upon her, sticking her thin silk robe to her skin, revealing the sharp, bony curves of her body. 

Her face, in the midst of this chaos, is calm. 

(At peace.)

She makes no motion to move under shelter, and no motion to shake the heavy, wet locks of her hair from her face.

Her golden eyes, when they are visible, are clear, focused unwavering on the ever-darkening horizon before her. 

(On the great, towering, dark clouds carpeting the ocean before her.)

Her chest rises and falls, and the rain does not steam against her skin. 

The door behind her is open, and strong winds blow the pounding rain effortlessly into it, ruining the carpet, and soaking the curtains. 

Azula blinks, and her hands spread against the banister before her. 

The rain drips off her hands and Azula takes another long breath. 

"Azula, come inside," Mai says from the behind her, stepping out of the shadows, but staying just outside of the rain. 

She is as perfectly put together as she always is, her robe crisp and perfect—

Her hair bound tightly, with not a strand out of place. 

"Come out and enjoy the storm with me," Azula says instead, lifting her hands from the banister and raising them into the air. 

Her gaze rises from the horizon to a faintly bright spot in the clouds above her. 

"It is a wonderful storm." 

There is a long moment of not-silence, the air between then filled with the heavy sound of pounding rain, and the high whistling of the wind. 

"You can feel the lightning in the air, Mai," Azula continues, her head tilting back. "It reminds me of you."

Her breath stutters, and her eyes close. 

"What it would be," she breathes out, "to have you both." 

The monsoon on the horizon grows closer, and a tremor runs through Mai's body as the shiver runs through Azula's voice. 

Mai exhales slowly, glances down at the encroaching dampness at her feet, and takes a step back. 

"You can't," she finally says, the coarse material of her gloves scratching and catching against each other as she presses her palms together. 

Azula stops, and her back draws right with tension. 

"But I'm right here," Mai finally continues, her fingers untangling, her hands falling by her sides.  "Come inside." 

The tension in Azula's back drains, her eyes flutter open, and she turns away from the balcony. 

Her golden eyes meet Mai's amber ones, and her breath hisses it between her lips in a silent sigh. 

Her golden eyes fall briefly to Mai's impeccably straight posture, before rising back to Mai's face. 

"Oh, yes," she says, raising her hands to her hair and gathering it in a messy bundle at the nape of her neck before dropping it to her back once more. 

She takes a step forward, her bare feet slapping loudly against the wet stone. 

"Even a monsoon cannot compare," she breathes out. 

Mai doesn't respond, waiting patiently as Azula continues towards her. 

The surface beneath Azula's feet goes from wet stone to soggy carpet, and Azula comes to a stop before Mai. 

Mai stands two inches taller than her, and Azula raises her chin to meet her eyes. 

After a moment, Mai lowers her chin to meet Azula's. 

"So?" Azula asks, "I'm here." 

She takes a step closer, turning her head further. 

"What will you do with me?" 

The wind outside howls, and the rain intensifies. 

Thunder roars in the distance, and neither Mai nor Azula flinch. 

Mai's tongue darts out against her lips, and her hands shake as she lifts them to Azula's shoulders. 

Azula's hands rise to her own belt, and untie it in a single notion. 

Mai's fingers curl around the fabric at Azula's shoulders, and she pushes. 

With a wet squelch, the robe falls to the ground. 

Mai's gaze flickers down for a moment before her gloved hands settle on Azula's waist. 

Azula looks down at them and smiles before raising her own hands to loop around Mai's shoulders. 

Mai brings their lips together, and Azula leaves a messy, wet imprint against Mai's perfectly groomed robes. 

Mai's eyes flicker to the upon doors behind Azula, and Azula presses her body closer. 

"Leave them open," she whispers. "I want to feel you both." 

Mai shudders, and Azula shudders in response. 

Mai's gaze finally drags itself back to Azula, and Mai's voice is hoarse when she whispers—

"Okay." 


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Mai wakes first. 

She blinks, eyes heavy with sleep, and turns her face to the pre-dawn sky over her slumbering lover's shoulders. 

After a moment of blank staring, she sits up, not bothering to catch the thin sheet as it slides from her bare chest. 

The air is cool, and the wind even cooler, but Mai does not shiver. 

(Her hair does not stand on end.)

Her breath is faintly white in the air before her, and her unfocused gaze drifts lazily across it as it twists towards the ceiling. 

To her side, her lover's form shifts, golden eyes blinking blearily open. 

Mai turns her face down, and Azula makes a weak noise in the back of her throat, making only a weak effort to turn her face up to meet her. 

"Mai," she husks out, voice half-slurred. 

She takes in a noisy breath through her half-parted mouth, and bumps a fumbling hand against Mai's back. 

"You're up early," she continues after a long moment of not-quite-silence. 

Mai inclines her head in a way that implies vague acceptance, and Azula makes another largely incomprehensible noise, twisting fully onto her back to face up at Mai. 

"Did I wake you?" Mai asks after another moment of silence. 

Azula smiles with a weak, sleepy, smile, and presses her hand more firmly against Mai's back. 

"'happy to be awake," she slurs out with a mildly delirious half-smile, slipping her hand clumsily around Mai's waist and making a weak effort of pulling her closer. 

When Mai doesn't move, she huffs out a weak laugh, allowing her head to fall back against her pillow. 

She licks her lips, and stretches a weak stretch against her sheets. 

"'no fair," she mutters. 

Mai doesn't respond, but doesn't look away, turning in place to more comfortably gaze down at Azula. 

The motion brings her legs in contact with Azula's, and Azula responds with a hum of appreciation, pressing closer with a smile. 

There is a long moment of silence, as Mai's gaze falls to the long expanse of Azula's throat, and Azula's legs not-quite-silently scrape against Mai's beneath their shared sheet. 

It is Azula who breaks it. 

Her throat bobs beneath Mai's unwavering gaze, and her eyes do not open. 

"Isn't it wonderful," she says, stretching her chest out of their shared sheet and baring it to the cool air, "the air of the morning after a storm." 

Her eyes open then, staring not up at Mai but at the wooden headboard above her head. 

"Firebenders," she continues, "are not meant to be confined or hidden away from the elements. "

Azula's gaze falls to Mai, and she sits up. 

"We are a part of them," she says, leaning her body towards Mai. "And they are a part of us." 

Mai's gaze falls to Azula's lips in the faint light of pre-dawn. 

"Can't you feel it, Mai," she whispers, raising a hand to gesture at the open door and ruined curtains, "How amazing the air feels on your skin." 

Mai's breath sharpens, and Mai and Azula's breath begin to intermingle. 

"Tell me you feel it, Mai," she whispers against Mai's lips. 

Mai's hands twist in the sheets beneath them, and she closes the final inch between them. 

"I feel it," she whispers against Azula's lips. 

Azula smiles against her, moving the hand that had been gesturing out the window to rest on Mai's knees instead. 

"I'm glad," she says. "Let's feel it together." 


	10. Chapter 10

Mai stands alone in the garden. 

Before her, the sun begins to set. 

It fades from a bright yellow to a dull red, and Mai doesn't move. 

The horizon is decorated with bright reds and purples, and the wind curls at the ends of her hair. 

Five minutes later, the sun is gone, and the world is blue. 

Mai finally blinks, and turns away. 

"It's always painful, isn't it," Azula says from beside her, her black robe a dark blue in the fading light, "Watching it go." 

Azula turns to face her, folding her hands behind her back. 

Mai doesn't flinch at her presence, only blinking once in acknowledgement before turning away. 

She stares at the horizon while Azula stares at her. 

"Yes," Mai finally agrees. "It is." 

Beside her, Azula smiles.


	11. Chapter 11

The turtleducks are loud.

When Mai feeds them, they squawk and kick their feeble legs against the water.

The pond churns and water splashes, but Mai doesn’t move.

She crouches before the pond, her sandals sinking into the wet mud, and patiently flicks bread crumbs to the far bank.

The turtleducks spin and race across the pond, and Mai closes her eyes and against the water.

When she opens them again, her front is drenched, her bangs are stuck to her face, and her gloves are heavy with water.

The turtleducks continue to fight on the far side of the pond, and she flicks another crumb to another corner of the pond.

It takes the turtleducks a long moment to realize there is more food to be had, and when they do, they race loudly towards it with all their might.

Mai leans back, and picks the wet, muddy loaf of bread from beside her, and tears it apart in her fingers.

With a lazy flicks of her fingers, she continues tossing bits of bread to the far corners of the pond until the turtleducks no longer race for the new crumbs, but meander lazily towards them.

After she is left with only the heel, she places it lightly in her fingers, and holds it out to the water.

Only one turtleduck approaches her, swimming in what could only barely be called a straight line.

It stops before her, blinking its green eyes owlishly up at her before dropping its head to her hand.

Its beak catches on the loose threads of her glove and it tugs at them for a long moment before realizing they are not food, and releasing her.

It turns its gaze back up to Mai, and Mai rests a hand on its head, scratching at it lightly.

It endures this for a long moment before ducking its head into the water and scurrying away with a splash.

Mai closes her eyes against the spray, and sighs.

She opens her eyes, and stares at where the water has stuck the front of her robe flush to her body.

With another sigh, she straightens, and pulls the wet fabric of her robe from her body.

With a weak sticking noise it releases her, and hangs limply before her.

Mai turns her gaze up, and runs it over the royal gardens all around her.

She is alone.

(Five minutes later, she opens the door to Azula’s room, and smiles.)

( _ Welcome back.  Did you have fun? _ )


	12. Chapter 12

“Of a sort.”

Azula’s eyes flutter up from the scroll before her, and meet Mai’s for a moment before falling back to it once more.

Azula makes a humming noise in the back of her throat for a split-second before jerking her gaze back up to Mai—

“What on Earth did you do?  Go swimming with them?”

Mai glances down at where the front of her robe has once again adhered to her, and shrugs.

“I guess,” she says neutrally, plucking aimlessly at the front of her robe until it pulls off of her with a soft squelch.

Mai raises her gaze once more, and a smile tugs at her lips as Azula stares at her in abject horror.

“That’s disgusting,” she says, her face twitching as she attempts to rein in her expression.

She opens her mouth to continue, but the words stall in her throat, and the only noise that comes out is a piteous groan.

“Take a shower,” she finally manages.

Mai plucks at her wet gloves, pulling them off with a squelch.

“No,” she says with a smile, dropping her wet gloves on the table beside her.

Azula makes a face at the wet pile of fabric on the side table before turning to make a face at Mai instead.

“ _ Mai _ ,” she says, voice tinged with desperation.  “Nobody ever cleans that pond.”

“Seemed clean to me,” Mai says, dropping her hands to the sash at her waist.

Azula’s eyes follow her hands, and something that is almost a smile wars with the disgust already present on her face.

She finally manages to raise her gaze to Mai’s face, and says—

“There’s turtleduck-poop in that pond, Mai.”

Mai unties her sash, allowing her robe to fall to the ground with a wet squelch.

Azula’s expression twists further, and her gaze falls from Mai’s face.

“Turtleduck-poop,” she repeats faintly, gaze not rising back to Mai’s face.

“Oh no,” Mai says, raising her hands to her hair.  “Whatever shall I do.”

After several long moments of tugging, Mai’s hair falls down her back and Azula jerks—

“Take a shower,” she responds belatedly.

Mai gives her a dubious glance, which Azula returns unblinkingly before sighing and turning away.

“Fine,” she says, disappearing into the adjoining room.  “If that’s what you want.”

Azula blinks at the open door for a long moment before tossing her scroll to the side—

“I’ll help.”

A minute later, the room is empty, with a dry deep red robe pooled next to Mai’s wet black one.


	13. Chapter 13

Mai stands in the doorway to Azula’s room, a deep red robe two inches too small for her in every dimension wrapped loosely around her form.

Her shoulder is leaned against the wooden frame of the four and her expression is soft.

It is long past sunset, but the moon is bright, and the room is lit with a pale white light. 

In the shadows, figures that don't exist dance on nothing, but Mai does not give them so much as a glance. 

Her gaze instead lies on this small figure huddled against the edge of the bed, face nearly hidden from view and hair spread in a chaotic mess. 

Mai smiles. 

She leans her head against the cool wood of the door frame, the skin around her eyes crinkles, and Mai smiles. 

Azula stirs in her sleep, shuffling backwards from the edge of the bed, and rolling into a subtle indentation where the down futon has not yet quite regained its shape. 

The sheets covering her chest slip, and a narrow strip of wrinkle-less sheet falls away. 

Outside, a half-formed storm whistles through the trees. 

The moonlight flickers as clouds pass over the sun. 

Azula responds with an incomprehensible sleepy grumble, wiggling further to the middle of the bed before settling in once more.

The hair behind her grows ever more tangled, and Azula’s eyelids flutter open.

She rolls her head in Mai’s general direction.

“Mai?” she whispers.

The wind whistles some more, and the moonlight continues to fade. 

"Yeah," Mai says.  “It’s me.”

Azula squirms further  to direct her heavy-lidded gaze in Mai’s direction.

She opens her mouth, but no words emerge.

“It’s nothing,” Mai says, hanging the robe on the bedpost in passing.  “Go back to sleep.”

Azula twists her head further, following Mai’s motions as she continues to approach the bed. 

Azula smiles blearily as Mai tucks herself beneath the covers, and rolls towards her.

Mai sets her head on a pillow, and gives her an answering smile.

“It’s fine,” she repeats.  “Go back to sleep.”

Azula hums, and reaches for Mai beneath the covers.

Mai accepts her touch, and Azula’s eyes drift shut once more.

Mai gives Azula's face a long glance before turning to the clouds beyond the window.

The wind begins to fade once more, and she leans her head back into her pillow before finally closing her eyes as well. 

“Good night, Azula." 

The room is briefly perfectly silent, the wind between gusts. 

"'night, Mai." 


	14. Chapter 14

A scroll clatters to the floor.

A moment later, two hands crash into the floor after it, followed rapidly by two legs.

Azula blinks open her eyes, and stares blearily at the stone tile before her.

“What,” she asks the floor sleepily, moving her legs under her, and slumping up into a position that could almost be called a sitting position. 

There is a coughing laugh from behind her, and she arches her back to send a half-lidded glare behind her.

Her eyes meet Mai’s, and her glare softens, while her face twists in confusion.

“I’m not sure whether to be impressed or not,” Mai tells her.

Azula turns back to the floor before leveraging herself up onto the couch beside her and collapsing onto it face first.

“What happened,” she mutters into the couch cushions.

Mai lets out another soft snort, and begins to approach the couch, her boots clicking against the stone.

At the sound, Azula ducks her head, and stares blearily at Mai’s shoes.

“You fell off the couch.”

“You’re wearing shoes.”

Mai stops, and Azula contorts further to drag her gaze up Mai’s form.

“And all your knives, too,” she continues, finally meeting Mai’s gaze.

Mai pauses mid-step before continuing.

“Yes,” she agrees.

“Why are you wearing shoes?”

Mai comes to a stop at Azula’s feet, resting her hands on either side of the bare soles of Azula’s feet.

“Because I went to court today,” she finally answers.

Azula twists further to give Mai’s face one last glance before giving an non-committal grunt and flopping back on her stomach, burying her face in the couch cushions once more.

Her feet squirm to the sides until her ankles are resting against Mai’s wrists.

Mai turns her gaze down to the bare soles of Azula’s feet for a moment before returning it to the back of Azula’s head.

“You should be impressed,” Azula finally adds to the couch cushions.  “I have demonstrated my superior physical prowess.”

“Your superior physical prowess,” Mai echoes.

“Yes,” Azula adds mulishly to the couch cushions.

After a moment, she adds—

“Why was I sleeping on the couch?”

Mai smiles, and lifts her hands to rest on the back of Azula’s shins.

"I have no idea." 

Azula makes an irritated harrumph at the cushions before her face.

“Did you get to use your knives?” she finally asks.

“No.”

Another harumph. 

It is followed slowly by:

"Did you want to?" 

Mai spreads her fingers against the pale skin on the back of Azula's legs, and Azula shivers. 

"Of course I did." 

Face still buried in the couch, Azula smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's the end. It's a bit of a non-ending, but there it is.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it—I certainly enjoyed writing it.


End file.
